


The Cellophane Diaries

by pressedpeachpits



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 90'S, AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, But what's new about that, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Love at First Sight, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Weed, anakin is an emo lil shit, band au, everyone is human, like tons of weed sorry guys, obi-wan is a hippie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23909392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedpeachpits/pseuds/pressedpeachpits
Summary: Anakin Skywalker sulks through the 90's on a cloud of weed and music. He knows who he is, what he wants, and how to hide all of his secrets. Enter one Obi-Wan Kenobi, a hippie god in well-worn Birkenstocks.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to v for being my lifelong beta, idk what i'd do without you <3

It was the flick and sizzle of the lighter that always got to Anakin. From the countless hits he’d taken from bongs, blown-glass pieces, corncob pipes, and badly rolled joints, one would think he’d be over the fear by now. Without fail, however, the fear curled up inside him every time like a past life come to haunt him.

But then he’d take that first hit and nothing mattered anymore. He would hold his bangs back, take a deep breath in, and all the stress left him in his exhale.  _ Things will be okay now, Anakin.  _ It was like a mantra surrounded by suppressed coughs and giggles. The familiar thickness would take hold of his lungs and all his secrets disappeared.

His mom didn’t see it that way though, which is why Anakin Skywalker, age 19, was currently in the bushes behind the skatepark with a friend of a friend’s younger brother.

“See? I told you my shit’s good,” the kid said.

Anakin took another hit and spoke around his held breath, “I’ve met baby skunks more potent than this.” The boy frowned and Anakin rolled his eyes, “Okay, how much?”

“Uh, $15.”

“$15? Are you out of your God damned mind? I’ll give you,” Anakin dug into his pockets and pulled out a crumpled Lincoln and some quarters, “Six bucks, alright? And that’s generous. Don’t try to pull this shit with someone else, they won’t be so nice.”

The boy took the money and then stared at Anakin’s lips expectantly.

“What?”

“Can I—could I have a puff?”

“Man, get the  _ fuck _ out of here.”

The kid scrambled to his feet and jumped from the bushes, leaving Anakin contented with his joint. He took another hit and leaned his head back against the leaves of the bush.

After a few minutes of languid thought, lyrics started to bloom behind his eyes. This was his favorite part, when the music came. He could feel the drumbeat in his veins, see the bass strings vibrating beneath Padmé’s fingers, and hear himself singing in his gentle, raspy voice.

Oh, he  _ was  _ singing. He let out a giggle and opened his eyes to look at the sky. It was a bright blue summer’s day, the kind that made him feel like a kid again, and as much as he detested the desert heat, he loved days like this. He leaned over to his backpack and pulled out his notebook, flipping to a new page and jotting down his lyrics.

_ By now we should be something, _

_ By now they were something, _

_ Fighting to prove myself, _

_ Fighting not to— _

His writing was interrupted when a shadow pulled in front of the sun. He looked up to see Padmé standing above him, smiling fondly down at him.

“Was that Kenth Corrik I just saw running from here?” she asked, taking a seat beside him in the hidden shrubbery.

“Who?”

“Kenth Corrik. Kuna Corrik’s baby brother?” she snapped the joint from his fingers and took a deep inhale, “The guy’s only been in love with you since junior high. Oh, and his dad’s a state trooper so watch out.”

“Padmé, darling, love of my life, that’s his  _ dad’s  _ weed. Come on, that kid couldn’t tell it apart from oregano.”

Padmé sniggered into her hand, “How much do you wanna bet Kuna put him up to it to win you over?”

Anakin wrinkled his nose as she passed the joint back to him, “If he wants to win me over he’s gotta get something stronger than this.”

Padmé snorted while he inhaled, “Do you always have to be so mean? He’s just a kid, come on. He’s, what, like 15?”

Anakin shrugged, “No idea. Look, I just don’t appreciate being ripped off. He tried to sell it to me for $15! This rinky-dink little joint? Come  _ on _ ! I know Kuna’s smarter’n that.”

Padmé motioned for the joint and took one more hit before handing it back to him and standing up.

“Where are you going?”

“Some of us have to work, Ani.”

Anakin waved his hand at her as she began to walk away, “Yeah, yeah, tell the mayor I said hey.”

“Practice at JJ’s tonight, don’t forget!” she called over her shoulder.

“See you then!” he called back.

Jar Jar “JJ” Binks was a tall, spacey man who no one truly believed to be his proclaimed 30 years of age. Legend had it he had once thrown a party of such epic proportions that TV stations three states over were reporting it, only to wake up the next day and claim he didn’t even know whose house it was.

As kids, Anakin and Padmé had always been intimidated by JJ and seen him as the coolest thing since 9 year old Lissa Jakal had sucker punched an 8th grader during recess. In high school, however, they learned differently.

After Padmé’s graduation ceremony, they had snuck off to the corner store to wait for someone old enough to buy them beer. JJ walked by and, without a word spoken between them, zipped in and out with a bottle of Boone’s Farm strawberry wine and a wicked grin. They had tried to pay him for it, but he’d insisted that it was fine as long as they let him drink with them.

As it turned out, JJ was a pretty cool guy. He didn’t know what was going on half the time, but he was funny and kind and played the drums like nobody’s business. It was the second time they hung out together that they found out and Anakin came up with the idea to start a whiny band. JJ had showed them his drum set in the living room and given them a small taste. Anakin and Padmé had stared at him with their jaws on the floor, and once he had finished Anakin had sprung into action.

“We  _ need  _ to start a band! Padmé can play the bass and I’m not half-bad at singing. And, I guess I could try to learn guitar.”

Padmé had crossed her arms and given him that Mom Look he knew so well, “Are you sure about this, Ani? It’s a big commitment, are you sure you’re up for that? Not to mention, uh,” she shifted her gaze nervously to JJ, “We don’t even know if JJ is interested in that.”

“No, that sounds awesome! I’ll do it!” JJ had exclaimed.

After a few weeks of practicing together, it came time to make the decision of a band name. JJ was enthusiastically pushing  _ JJ’s Band _ , while Padmé loved the sound of  _ The Republic _ . After a few minutes of deliberation, Anakin smirked.

“No, we’re The Empire. We will  _ rule _ our fans, not be apart of them.”

Padmé was a bit uncomfortable, but after JJ had so enthusiastically agreed, she gave in. And thus  _ The Empire _ was born; a band of 3 misfits with lyrics that dripped with teenage angst.

Which is why, several hours later, Anakin found himself once again in JJ’s living room, frustratedly running his hands over his face. The others were doing perfectly fine, hitting the tempo and chords right, but Anakin seemed to be unable to focus on both singing and playing lead guitar tonight. He looked up to Padmé, who smiled at him encouragingly, although he could tell she was starting to get a bit fed up as well.

“Oh, come on, we got this, Ani!” JJ said, “I gotta admit, though, s’nice not being the one messing up for once.”

“JJ!” Padmé snapped, “Ani, do you want to take a little break?”

“That’s a good idea, actually,” JJ mused while looking at his wristwatch, “I’ve actually got someone coming over soon.”

Anakin looked up from the bong he had swiped off of JJ’s coffee table in surprise.

“Dude, who the hell else do you even know?”

“Get the fuck outa here, I know  _ tons  _ of people, you little shit!”

Padmé rolled her eyes, “Is this, like, a hookup? Should we head out?”

JJ made a squeamish face, “Gross, no. I’m not into dudes. He’s just coming by to get some bud.”

Anakin let out a stream of smoke and grinned, “Hopefully whatever you’ve got for him is better than Sheriff Corrik’s stash.”

Padmé grinned as she sat down next to him, motioning for him to pass her the bong. As he did so, a knock came from the front door and JJ got up to answer it. Anakin craned his neck to see who JJ was talking to, and immediately got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. The man laughed and then walked in behind JJ, a dream in Birkenstocks.

The man had a scruffy red beard and dazzling white teeth that peaked behind it. His hair was swept back by a tie-dye bandana and his loose Grateful Dead tee had several holes in it. His billowy harem pants flowed with each step and was that… was that a fucking  _ leather anklet  _ he had on?

Anakin only took his eyes off the man when he felt Padmé pushing the bong back into his hands. He leaned forward to take a hit, careful to keep his bangs back, and stared at the hippie god from the corner of his eye. His fair skin was clearly sun-kissed in a way Anakin would not have thought possible, and his forehead was graced by an oddly endearing mole.

When the man turned to him, Anakin coughed. He could feel the blood rush straight to his cheeks in embarrassment. The man waved and with a big grin, introduced himself.

“Hello there,” he said softly, “I’m Obi-Wan.”

Anakin coughed out the last of the smoke and managed an, “Anakin.”

At that moment JJ returned with a sandwich bag with the smallest amount of weed he had ever seen.

“$20 sound good?” he asked.

“Ah, I suppose so. I wouldn’t really know.”

Anakin felt the feeling in his stomach tighten. For some reason, this didn’t feel right. Obi-Wan was a stranger, but a handsome one at that, and he seemed so… innocent wasn’t the right word, but those piercing eyes had Anakin at a loss for words.

“Hey, I’ll get that, man,” he said.

A look of pure gratitude washed over Obi-Wan’s face, “Oh, thank you! I truly appreciate it. I’ve never really tried marijuana before, but I want to, ah, expand my horizons, as they say?”

Anakin nodded slowly, not understanding a single word. Luckily, JJ wasn’t so polite.

“You want to  _ what _ ?” JJ blurted out.

“Oh, well, I’m an artist, you see. And I’ve read that marijuana can help you dig deeper into your soul while doing your art. I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? A higher state of understanding where you can detach from one’s ego.” Obi-Wan grinned that heartbreaking smile of his again, “I’m sure you understand, you seem to have a lot of experience.”

Anakin turned his head to stare at Padmé, who seemed genuinely interested in what this man had to say.

Once again at a loss for words, he just simply said, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Well, I must be going. Thank you,” he said to JJ, “And thank you for your generosity, uh, Anakin, was it?”

Anakin nodded and then watched as Obi-Wan left.

“What. A. Freak.” JJ laughed the second the door closed.

“Hey! I thought he was sweet,” Padmé said, “Just because  _ you  _ don’t understand the importance of art—“

“Dude, we’re literally musical artists. Also, Ani, you owe me 20 bucks.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said, staring at the door and wondering why he felt so empty all of the sudden.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin knew what Obi-Wan meant about vibrations and energy now, because he could feel it crackling between them like a live wire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un beta'd as of right now because i'm too anxious to post it, but i'll update it once it's been beta'd by v! enjoy!

“Anakin, you’re shaking.”

The words broke Anakin out of his trance and he snapped his head up to see Padmé, looking concerned. They were in the backroom of the Hutt, a dingy bar with green stage lights and staff that treated everyone like family.

“Pre-show jitters,” he explained, “I always get like this, you know that.”

“I know, I just… always want to help.” Padmé said as she sat next to him on the nicotine drenched couch, “I mean, you’re always fine once we start playing, so why do you keep freaking out?”

“Wish I knew.”

JJ burst in at that moment with three bottles of Bud Lite in hand, grinning maniacally, “Daddy JJ came in clutch!”

Anakin rolled his eyes and took a bottle from him as Padmé did the same. Jabba, the owner, was usually very stringent about free drinks with no ID, but The Empire brought in too much business for him to care that much with Anakin. “Besides,” Jabba would say in his thick Bronx accent, “What’s two years when we double our sales when you guys play?”

The beer was shitty, tasted more like dishwater than a German art form, but Anakin drank it down nonetheless; free beer was free beer. Before long a pretty girl with long dark hair and a cropped tee was telling them they were on and they walked onstage.

JJ settled behind the drums, Padmé picked up her bass, and Anakin grabbed his guitar and adjusted his microphone. In front of them small tables dotted the floor and the crowd sat with drinks and food in front of them. While most of the people present were college-aged, there were some older folks who clearly had been cool when they were younger, and a small group of nervous teenagers who must have had some solid fake IDs. Anakin made a mental note to ask them where they’d gotten them after the show.

Then the green lights came on and he was blinded from the crowd. All he could see was the mic in front of him and odd flares in the corners of his eyes. This was the part he loved, when the anxiety floated away and the music took over. It was way better than any substance.

_ You might think you know me, baby, _

_ But you’re just lookin’ in a mirror, _

_ I can’t be myself around you, _

_ Cuz you make me feel inferior, _

The words tumbled from Anakin’s mouth like an ancient spell; they felt so right and at home there. He could hear Padmé’s backup vocals and the steady beat of JJ’s drums, and it felt like being in a family, it gave him a sense of belonging.

_ So safe and sound, _

_ When you’re not around, _

_ I would love you so, _

_ If you could just go, _

Before he knew it the song was over, the crowd was cheering, and they were starting up the next song on the setlist. The first hour flowed into the second like honey, and Anakin had never felt so happy. One of the green stage lights went out during Padmé’s solo in “Battle Cry” and everyone laughed, connected through shared experience. The world felt light.

“If you would like to turn down the lights with us,” Anakin said as the girl with the long hair turned off the stage lights, “This will be our final song for the night.”

He began to laugh when a few people in the audience groaned, but the laugh caught in his throat when he looked down. Pressed up against the edge of the stage, blue eyes wide and unblinking, was the man from JJ’s house. What was his name again? Oran? John? What was Anakin thinking, he had been thinking of nothing but that name for the past two weeks.

Obi-Wan.

When they made eye contact, Obi-Wan grinned and Anakin felt his mouth go dry.  _ Fuck _ . He missed the first count in, but Padmé and JJ were truly talented musicians and played the intro once more so that he could catch up. Luckily, the crowd seemed to have no clue.

They wrapped up the song with no further setbacks, most likely because Anakin had decided to focus his gaze on a neon sign above the bar, and the second they were done he rushed off stage.

Padmé found him backstage, packing up his guitar, and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You alright?” she asked softly.

“Mm,” he nodded, “Just distracted. Where’s JJ?”

Padmé rolled her eyes, “Gambling with Jabba, where else. Come on, let’s get you another drink.” And with her arm slung around his shoulders they walked out to the floor.

Rock music was playing on the speakers and Anakin could see Obi-Wan talking to a girl with both sides of her top lip pierced. Obi-Wan seemed to sense Anakin, because he looked up at that exact moment and smiled at him. Anakin turned his head and pretended he hadn’t seen him, although he could feel his cheeks heating up.

Next to a couple making out, JJ was sitting at the bar across from Jabba. When they approached, Jabba set down his cards and grinned.

“Another fantastic show! How’s another drink sound?”

“Perfect!” JJ dramatically knocked back the rest of his beer, but in doing so elbowed the couple (still attached) in the face.

“What the  _ fuck _ , man?” one of them yelled as he stood up, “What’re you trying to do?”

“Shit, I’m so sorry! I was just trying to be funny—“

“Funny?  _ Funny _ ? By kicking me and my girl in the teeth?”

“No, no, you got it all wrong!”

The next few seconds felt like a movie, they were so ridiculous and cliché. The man pulled his arm back, about to sucker punch JJ right in the eye, and then suddenly Obi-Wan was there, fury blazing in his eyes. He punched the man in his side, and when his eyes flickered up to Anakin’s, Anakin felt his heart stop.

The man crumpled to the ground and Jabba was yelling, running around the bar to kick out the couple, but Anakin barely noticed. Obi-Wan’s blue eyes were locked onto his and Anakin was only pulled out of them when Padmé knocked into him to get to Obi-Wan.

“Thank you! Thank you so much, uh… I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name,” Padmé said.

“No worries, it’s O—“

“Obi-Wan Kenobi!” JJ interrupted, “I didn’t even see you in the crowd! Thanks for coming out tonight!”

Anakin rolled his eyes, “Yeah, and thanks for saving our asses.”

Obi-Wan’s attention snapped back to Anakin, “I didn’t save anyone, perspective is the poor man’s advantage.”

“Uh, yeah, alright,” Anakin said with no idea what that meant, “Well, thanks.”

Obi-Wan smiled and wrapped an arm around Padmé, who looked a bit taken aback, “Anything for a friend, Anakin.”

The sound of his name in Obi-Wan’s voice made Anakin’s stomach twist, though not uncomfortably. He could feel heat in his abdomen that he hadn’t felt in quite a long time.

They ended up staying much later than they usually did, sitting with Obi-Wan and drinking more and more. Obi-Wan seemed to loosen up as he drank and began giggling at all of JJ’s lame jokes. After an hour, Padmé had kissed everyone’s cheek and left, and while Anakin felt he should walk her home, he just didn’t want to leave the bright presence that was Obi-Wan.

After a fit of laughter after Obi-Wan told a story about a strange man who had tried to sell him plastic flowers and claimed they held magical properties if he steeped the petals into a tea, JJ excused himself to the restroom and drunkenly staggered away.

Anakin looked down at his drink and pushed it away, “Looks like I should sober up if I’m going to be the driver.”

“That’s a good idea if I ever heard one,” Obi-Wan replied.

“So, what brought you out? I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Ah, like you would remember everyone who’s been to your shows?” Obi-Wan asked, and Anakin couldn’t help but think  _ I would remember if it was you.  _ “No, uh, JJ told me you guys had a band and I, well I couldn’t resist.”

“Oh, well thanks! I’m flattered. Did you enjoy the show?”

“It was absolutely wonderful! The vibrations coming off you guys were incredible, I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

Anakin snorted, “You’re pretty woo-woo aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side at that, “Woo-woo?”

“Yeah, like,” Anakin wiggled his fingers beside his head, “‘Far out, man!’, y’know?”

“Ah, yes, people tend to say that to me. I personally consider myself just a bit more sensitive to the universe than the average bear.”

“You know what you’ve got?” Anakin asked suddenly, and before Obi-Wan could respond, he answered, “An old soul. You’re, like, from a different time.”

Obi-Wan smiled serenely at that, “Thank you, dear friend. You’re a very kind person, you know that?”

Anakin narrowed his eyes and leaned toward Obi-Wan, “Are you just trying to butter me up for some free weed?”

Obi-Wan blanched and sputtered, “What, no! I would never  _ ever _ —“

Anakin grinned, “I’m messing with you man. Come on, let’s light up.”

Without waiting for a response, Anakin stood up and strode quickly towards the back door; he knew his liquid courage wouldn’t last much longer.

When he opened the door to the back alley, however, it was raining. He turned, nose scrunched, to face Obi-Wan, who was right behind him.

“Rain check?” Anakin asked.

“Oh, no! No, Anakin, you never make rain checks! Rain is one of the most cleansing substances nature gives us. We shouldn’t turn it away, but embrace it with open arms. Come on.”

Obi-Wan squeezed past Anakin and raised his arms to the sky. He turned and grinned widely and Anakin had no choice but to follow. It wasn’t raining hard, but the gentle tapping against his head and shoulders made Anakin a bit uncomfortable. He raked a hand through his growing hair and looked sideways at Obi-Wan.

“You  _ like  _ this?” he asked.

“You don’t?” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin rolled his eyes and pulled a half-smoked joint and a lighter out of his breast pocket.

“Can you cover it?” he asked as he raised the joint to his lips.

Obi-Wan nodded and crowded in against Anakin, cupping his hands around the end of the joint while Anakin lit it. Anakin took in a deep breath and then looked up; Obi-Wan was staring in his eyes like a blind man seeing for the first time.

Anakin knew what Obi-Wan meant about vibrations and energy now, because he could feel it crackling between them like a live wire.

“You ever shotgunned?” he breathed.

“Uh-uh.”

“C’mere then.”

Anakin took a hit but held it in and cupped a hand behind Obi-Wan’s head. He pulled him forward so that their lips were just barely touching, and then blew the smoke into Obi-Wan’s mouth. Obi-Wan was still staring into his eyes and didn’t even seem to be aware that he was supposed to be sucking it back in.

Before Anakin could stop himself, he had pulled Obi-Wan forward through the remaining space and was kissing him. Obi-Wan immediately kissed back, the energy between their eyes now pressing between their lips. The feeling of Obi-Wan’s beard scratching against Anakin’s face made his every nerve twitch.

When Obi-Wan opened his mouth, Anakin could taste the beer and pretzels they had been eating all night, but it wasn’t gross or unpleasant; to Anakin it tasted like heaven. He was kissing Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man he’d thought of nonstop for two weeks straight.

He wanted nothing more than to hold Obi-Wan close, to kiss him until the rain stopped and maybe even longer. To learn everything there was to know about him, to know him more deeply and intimately than anyone else ever had, to—

As the next thought started to roll in, Anakin wrenched himself from Obi-Wan, who was staring at him with shock and pure happiness.

“Anakin, I—“

“I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.”

And Anakin ran back into the bar, leaving Obi-Wan alone and confused with the forgotten joint soaking at his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this chapter! thanks for the kudos, bookmarks, and comments! feel free to comment and let me know what you think <3

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed <3 hope the prices weren't too outrageous, i haven't smoked since high school


End file.
